Marvel Oneshots

Almost Proposal (Loki Laufeyson)

Loki's fingers traced the small velvet box hidden in his pocket, his normally steady hands now slightly trembling. He had never expected a mere object, a tiny ring, to feel so heavy. It was supposed to be simple. A grand, sweeping proposal like something out of a fairy tale. Loki, the master of illusion and manipulation, had crafted an elaborate plan in his mind—one that would show Y/N how deeply he loved her, and how committed he was to their future together.

But as the evening unfolded, nothing had gone according to plan.

Dinner reservations were lost, leaving them to awkwardly wait for a table at a restaurant they were supposed to have strolled into with ease. The air between them had shifted, quiet and tense. When the waiter had spilled wine on Y/N's favorite dress—the one Loki had specifically requested she wear—it felt like the universe was mocking him. Each mishap had eroded the evening, the picture-perfect moment slipping further and further away.

Now, they walked hand in hand down a quiet street, the night cool and still around them. Loki's mind raced, replaying every misstep. He had imagined a night filled with charm and grace, leading up to a flawless proposal. Instead, they were wandering the streets in silence, the once-magical evening tarnished by a series of minor catastrophes.

Y/N's hand was warm in his, but she hadn't said much since they left the restaurant. The silence felt heavy, laden with the weight of things unsaid. Loki's gaze flicked toward her, his heart clenching at the distant look in her eyes. He could tell she was disappointed—maybe not with him directly, but with how the night had unfolded. It gnawed at him. He wanted nothing more than to make her happy, to wipe away the frustration and replace it with joy. But how could he, when the evening had slipped so far out of his control?

He clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"Y/N," he finally said, his voice sharper than he intended.

She turned her head slightly, her brow furrowing in surprise at his tone. "Yes?"

Loki stopped walking, pulling her gently to a halt beside him. The soft glow of streetlights cast long shadows around them, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. He could feel the velvet box in his pocket pressing against him, a reminder of what he had been planning all night. But now, with the tension between them, it felt wrong.

"This night..." he began, his voice softening, though the frustration still lingered. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Y/N blinked, her confusion deepening. "What do you mean?"

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I wanted tonight to be special. I had a plan—one that would make you feel... cherished. But everything has gone wrong."

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer to him, her fingers gently brushing his arm. "Loki, you don't have to plan everything perfectly. I don't care about that. I'm just happy to be with you."

His heart twisted at her words, a pang of guilt mixing with the frustration he already felt. How could she be so understanding, so calm, when everything had crumbled around them? He had wanted to give her a perfect night, a memory she would treasure forever. But instead, all he felt was the sting of failure.

Loki shook his head, his hand sliding into his pocket to wrap around the box. "But you deserve more than this, Y/N. You deserve something extraordinary. And I've failed to give you that."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, and she tilted her head, concern etched across her face. "Loki, what are you talking about?"

He hesitated, his grip tightening on the box. This wasn't how he had wanted to do it. Not here, not like this. But the words were on the tip of his tongue, and before he could stop himself, he pulled the box from his pocket and held it between them.

"I was going to ask you something tonight," he said, his voice low and raw. "Something important."

Y/N's eyes flickered to the small velvet box in his hand, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she seemed frozen in place, her gaze darting between the box and Loki's face.

He opened the box slowly, revealing the ring inside—a delicate silver band with a deep green stone set in the center. The ring shimmered faintly under the streetlights, the magical energy Loki had imbued it with radiating softly. It was unique, crafted with his own hands, a symbol of everything he wanted to offer her.

"I was going to propose tonight," Loki admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought everything needed to be perfect. But I've been a fool."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the ring in disbelief. Her lips trembled, and for a moment, she said nothing. The night air seemed to thicken around them, the weight of Loki's confession hanging heavily between them.

"Loki..." she finally whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I... I don't know what to say."

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I've been waiting for the right moment, waiting for everything to be perfect. But maybe I've been too focused on that. I should have just... asked you. Because the truth is, Y/N, you're the only thing that matters. Not the perfect night, not the perfect plan. You."

Tears spilled down Y/N's cheeks, and she let out a soft, choked laugh. "You don't have to be perfect for me, Loki. I've never wanted that. I just want you."

Loki's hand trembled as he reached for hers, pulling her closer. "I love you, Y/N. I love you more than I ever thought possible. I know I'm not an easy person to be with. I'm difficult, and I've made mistakes. But I want you by my side—for the rest of my life."

Y/N's tears flowed freely now, her fingers brushing against the ring as she let out a soft sob. "Loki, I love you. I don't care about tonight or how things went wrong. I love you."

His heart swelled at her words, the tension that had weighed him down all night dissolving in an instant. With a trembling hand, he gently slipped the ring onto her finger, his eyes never leaving hers. The cool metal seemed to hum against her skin, a perfect fit, as if it had always belonged there.

And then, before he could say another word, Y/N surged forward, capturing his lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. Loki responded instantly, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her against him, the intensity of the moment drowning out everything else. The world around them faded into nothingness as their kiss deepened, raw emotion pouring out of both of them.

Y/N clung to him, her hands gripping his shirt as if she was afraid to let go, and Loki kissed her as though it was the last time he ever would. The night's tension, the frustration, the missed opportunities—all of it melted away in the heat of their kiss, replaced by the undeniable truth of their love.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and trembling, Loki rested his forehead against hers, his hands cradling her face gently.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Forever."

Y/N smiled through her tears, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as she gazed up at him. "And you're mine."

They stood there in the quiet night, wrapped in each other's arms, the ring on Y/N's finger glinting softly in the dim light. The night hadn't gone as planned, but none of that mattered anymore. What mattered was the love they shared, the connection that bound them together, stronger than any mishap or misstep.

Loki had been waiting for perfection, but in the end, he realized that perfection wasn't something you could plan for. It was something you created together, moment by moment, with the person you loved.

And as they walked home, hand in hand, Loki couldn't help but smile. Because with Y/N by his side, he finally understood—he didn't need the perfect moment. He already had everything he ever wanted.

4o